This is life’s sorrow:

That one can be happy only where two are;

And that our hearts are drawn to stars

Which want us not.

All your sorrow, Louise, and hatred of meSprang from your delusion that it was wantonnessOf spirit and contempt of your soul’s rightsWhich made me turn to Annabelle and forsake you.You really grew to hate me for love of me,Because I was your soul’s happiness,Formed and temperedTo solve your life for you, and would not.But you were my misery. If you had beenMy happiness would I not have clung to you?This is life’s sorrow:That one can be happy only where two are;And that our hearts are drawn to starsWhich want us not.Edgar Lee Mastersfra spoon river antologien